


Late Bloomer

by Kirito_Potter



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Claiming Bites, Dildos, First Time, Getting Together, Knotting, Knotting Dildos, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Self-Lubrication, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirito_Potter/pseuds/Kirito_Potter
Summary: “Stress heat?”“It’s when your nerves are what set it off.” She glances at me. “I guess that means your heat started because of Baz, doesn't it?”I falter, nearly tripping, and heat floods to my face. “I-- that's--” Merlin, she can't just say things like that.





	1. Chapter 1

**SIMON**

 

Twelve days-- almost two weeks-- and still no Baz. It's driving me crazy. Where could he possibly be, and why? Obviously, this is a plot to psych me out, to make me nervous and paranoid, and it's working.

This morning, I woke up expecting Baz's earthy alpha smell or the sound of the shower running, only to realise after a few seconds that he still wasn't here. Just me, alone. (Or was I?) (He could have been watching somewhere.)

I get to breakfast and look around before sitting. No trace of him anywhere. He's good at this.

“Are you still convinced he's here?” Penny asks, looking disappointed.

“He might not be here right this second,” I admit. “But he's somewhere on campus.” My chest feels tight all of a sudden. “I know he is.”  _ I hope he is. _

Her brown hair bounces as she shakes her head disapprovingly. I wish Penny hadn't let her natural colour come in. The purple went quite well with her beta-green tie. (Not that she appreciates being classified, anyhow. She could go on for hours about “how wrong it is to force students to display their secondary gender on a tie. And really? Red for alphas? What is that supposed to mean, that they're aggressive? What kind of stereotyping is that?”)

“You're obsessed,” she says. “So what if Baz isn't here? It's his life, Simon. He's not going to spend all of it torturing you.”

I pout, crossing my arms. “What, am I not worth torturing?”

She rolls her eyes. “Just eat, Simon.”

“Gladly.” I reach for a scone, anxiousness melting away. I'm still a bit jittery, but it's not as bad as before-- who can stay upset while eating scones?

As soon as breakfast ends, though, I find my stomach doing flips. I hope I don't throw up everything I just ate.

Penny and I walk down the hallway side by side, green ties swinging in unison. I do my best not to bring up Baz again. It makes my fingers twitch when I think about him.

We step into the Magic Words classroom, filing into our seats. I can't stop bouncing my leg under the table as I wait for Miss Possibelf to start class. Penny watches me out of the corner of her eye.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asks. “You look a bit pale.”

“I think I'm going to be sick,” I admit.

She looks like she's going to say something, but the bell rings loudly.

“Good morning,” Miss Possibelf says cheerily.

The other students mumble out greetings, looking like they'd rather be in bed. At least they're not worried they'll throw up if they so much as open their mouths.

“Let's take roll,” Miss Possibelf hums. “Penelope Bunce?”

“Present,” Penny chirps beside me, still looking a bit worried.

She moves down the list, but I can't focus on the words. All I hear is the pounding of my heart. It feels like it drags on forever, vague voices calling out but failing to overpower my rising panic. I have to shove my hands into my pockets to keep myself from picking at scars.

“Basilton Pitch?”

Miss Possibelf's voice breaks through my terror-- and so does the following silence. No response.  _ Absent. _

A shudder flies through my body, and before I can register it, my bottom lip is wobbling, throat closing tight. Hot tears are rolling down my cheeks. I try to stop myself from crying but make a squeaky noise instead.

“Mister Snow?” Miss Possibelf asks, wide-eyed. “Are you alright?”

“No,” I croak, wiping at my face with my tie. “I-- I don't know why I'm crying, and my stomach hurts, and-- and I'm so paranoid that I'm scared of my own shadow.”

Penny places a hand on my shoulder, glancing to the front of the classroom. “He said he might be sick.”

“Do you need to go to the nurse?”

I nod as quickly as I can without making myself dizzy.

“Alright. Miss Bunce, would you make sure he gets there safely?”

Penny stands, turning to me. She reaches for my hand, and I take it, standing on shaking legs.

Something warm slides down the back of my leg.

A murmur washes through the room, and the people who hadn't turned to look yet join the others. Everyone is moving strangely, slowly and precisely with wide eyes.

A bloke to my left straightens up in his seat and lets out an animalistic growl, eyes narrowing. I swallow. Red ties flash threateningly around the room as other students start to growl and snarl. It's like someone's cast a transfiguration spell to turn them into a pack of wolves, but they look just the same as they did before.

The first bloke stands, chair screeching on the linoleum floor, and takes a step towards me. I yelp, a few more tears escaping.

“ **Stay back!** ”

Penny's magic sends them all flying back a few feet, and while they're picking themselves up off the floor she drags me past them and out the door.

I stop and catch my breath, sniffling. “What was that? Why were they acting so weird?”

She shakes her head, tugging on my hand. “Walk and talk, Simon. You're not safe.”

“Wh-- safe?”

“Please.”

I let her lead me down the hallway, still very confused. When we make it out of the East wing, she lets go of my hand and slows down a bit, so I don't have to clumsily jog after her.

“What happened?” I ask, throat still tight. “Why did they look like they wanted to eat me alive?”

“Because they did,” she sighs.

“I don't understand.”

She looks uncomfortable. “Simon, you're in heat.”

“Wh-- I'm a beta!” I may not know a lot about secondary genders, but I've gathered that betas don't typically go into heat.

“I'm just as surprised as you,” she sighs. “I've never heard of someone presenting this late.”

“Presenting… I'm an omega, then?” I don't know what to do with my hands, so I play with my tie. I guess I'll need a new one. (Maybe the blue will make my eyes pop. That's a positive, right?)

“Sure seems that way,” she agrees. “Must be a stress heat.”

“Stress heat?”

“It’s when your nerves are what set it off.” She glances at me. “I guess that means your heat started because of Baz, doesn't it?”

I falter, nearly tripping, and heat floods to my face. “I-- that's--” Merlin, she can't just say things like that.

She pushes the doors open, and we step out of the main building into the courtyard.

“Where are we going?” I ask, eager to change the subject.

“Heat rooms,” she responds. “You're supposed to know where they are, Simon. There could be an emergency.”

Even as she says it, I can feel what I thought was nausea poking around in my stomach, pooling there and threatening to spill over. (Maybe it's already spilled, considering the wet feeling on the back of my trousers.)

She pulls me into a separate building. I've seen it before, but never considered exactly what happens inside. There's a young woman at the counter, smiling cheerfully.

“Hello!” She's much too chipper for how warm it is in here. Or maybe that's just me. “Are you here to see someone?”

Penny makes a gesture for me to say something.

“Um,” I manage.

“He's just presented,” Penny offers.

The woman loses her smile. “Aren't you an eighth year?”

I nod, shrugging.

“That's…” She shakes her head. “Alright, well, I need you to fill this out if you're able.”

She gives me a simple form for basic personal information. My hand shakes a little, making the pen wobble, but I don't have much trouble.

I hand it over, and she looks to Penny. “Thank you for getting him here safely.”

“Of course,” Penny smiles. “Thank you.” She pats my arm, says “Everything will be fine,” then she's leaving.

The woman leads me past rows of doors, labelled  _ occupied _ or  _ available _ . I don't know what other difference there is between them, but she seems to have a specific destination in mind. She finds the door she was looking for and pulls it open. I peer inside.

Roomy without being too open. A vanity with countless drawers. A door that probably leads to a bathroom. No windows. A bed slightly larger than the standard ones in the dorms, with what look like softer sheets and more pillows.

It finally hits me exactly what's about to happen.

“I-- I stay here?” I ask hesitantly.

“Until your heat's over,” she confirms. “There's some pamphlets for newly-presented omegas if you have any questions, and a comprehensive list of everything in the room. Just yell if you need anything, and I or one of the other supervisors will help you.” It sounds practically prerecorded, like she's so used to giving this explanation that she doesn't understand the gravity of what she's telling me.

“Uh, okay,” I mumble.

I stand there for a moment, biting my lip. Then I step inside.

The lock clicks behind me.

I examine the bed, picking up a pillow. It's not silk, thankfully (I hate the texture), just something soft that smells faintly of vanilla. There are blankets on top of the sheets, and they're fluffy and warm.

I open the door and confirm the presence of a bathroom, but like the bed it's much more posh than the ones at the dorms, with a huge bathtub alongside a shower with clear doors.

I'm slightly scared to open the vanity's drawers. I start with the pamphlet on top, so I don't have to worry about that yet. The explanations are genuinely helpful, though awkwardly clinical. The diagrams are slightly terrifying, but I do appreciate them. There's a page that assures me,  _ Masturbation is normal! _ , followed by a page with cartoon girl who seems a little too happy to be saying,  _ Most heats come every two months, and last about a week! _ It all feels strangely juvenile, probably because I should have presented by fifth year.

When I'm confident in the information in the pamphlet, I set it down again. That means I only have the drawers left.

I take a deep breath, then pull open the one on the top left corner.

I knew what was coming, but I'm still blushing like a schoolgirl at the sight of lube and a bright pink dildo. At the same time, though, I can feel a rush of what's apparently called slick running down my thighs. I guess I'm into this. I've never thought about whether I liked blokes (or female alphas, I suppose), but here I am, dripping onto the floor.

I open the next drawer. There's more of them, bigger than the first, with oddly specific details and a variety of colours.

The whole vanity is stocked with all kinds of plastic, each drawer slightly different. There's more dildos, but there's also vibrators, and rings, and clamps, and lots of things I don't know the names for. By the time I've kneeled in front of the last drawer, I'm panting, flushed, and the back of my trousers are completely soaked through. I'm a lot less freaked out about this than I thought I would be.

I close the drawer and stand, considering my options. Ultimately, while the search was helpful, I want to start simple. I've only ever wanked before; the pamphlet said it was a good idea to start with some stretching. Even that thought makes me shiver.

Just in case, I grab the smaller pink dildo  from the first drawer. I don't think I'll need the lube at the rate I'm leaking, so I leave it.

I hesitate in front of the bed. I feel a bit bad about soiling the nice sheets with slick, but I'm also hornier than I've ever been in my life. I strip off my shoes and socks, then trousers and pants, and crawl onto the bed, setting the dildo off to the side.

I sit in the middle of the mattress, carefully spreading my legs in front of myself. My thighs are shiny with slick. I run a finger through it. It's warm. Slowly, I slide my finger higher. Even though I'm nowhere near my destination, I'm so sensitive right now that I whine a little at the feeling.

I press my finger up to the rim, and my thighs quiver in anticipation. I swallow down a moan. Would it have been this good before, or is it because I'm in heat? Will I be this eager normally? I'm even more excited to try this now.

I press my finger in. It's like I've scratched an itch I didn't even know I had. I stifle another moan, eyes squeezing shut. I have to pause, letting my finger sit there for a moment. I'm fucking twitching around It, and I can feel my walls clenching uncontrollably, trying to pull it further inside. My body has a mind of its own right now, and it's kind of amazing. I take a shuddering breath and slowly push my finger farther, until I can't anymore. I squirm weakly, gritting my teeth. I've never felt this good before. Wanking is nothing in comparison.

Speaking of which.

I peek at my cock. It's flushed darkly, drooling precome. I'm a little surprised at just how hard I am. I take myself in my free hand, and I really do moan this time. The two sources of stimulation are overwhelming in the best way.

Tipping my head back, I start to pull my finger out, moving the hand on my cock as well. It's not exactly timed well, but it feels fantastic, and soon I'm pushing back into my hole again, whining happily. I had no idea I could feel this good.

After only a few clumsy thrusts of my finger, I'm shaking with the urge to add another. I need more, longer, thicker. As soon as I listen to my instincts, I whimper. I don't think I've ever whimpered before. It's so good, I feel so full, it's exactly what I needed.

I spread my fingers, pushing against the inside of my hole, and I can't help the raspy call that leaves me.

“Alpha!”

The sound of it, of my lips forming that word, makes my stomach feel hot.

My throat is tight again. I reach up with the hand not buried inside myself and tear my tie off, throwing it to the ground. I don't need it.

I spread my fingers again, and a high pitched keen fills the room. I do it a third time.

“Alpha, alpha, alpha, alpha!”

It's the most perverted chant, a wanton mantra, a needy motto. I don't try to stop myself from saying it.

I rock my fingers into myself frantically, grabbing for my cock again. I shift my angle, and when I slam home, I see stars.

“Fuck!”

I nearly come then and there. I'd thought I felt good already, but that spot inside myself was white hot, like a pit of fire. I search for the flames again.

“Alpha!”

Unlike my punchy little gasps before, this cry is drawn out, more moan than word. I sound like a proper porn star. I wonder if my alpha would like that.

I whine again at the thought of  _ my alpha _ . What would they look like? I try to form a mental picture. Toned muscle. Long, slender fingers replacing mine. Dark eyes against pale skin. Handsome beyond handsome.

I aim for that spot again, holding the image in my mind.

“B--”

I choke the word off, eyes flying open. Was I really about to say what I think I was?

No. No, of course not. That's ridiculous.

For completely unrelated reasons, I decide I'd like a different hypothetical alpha. Maybe… maybe blonde. Yes. And bright green eyes. Tight abs. Huge cock.

I shudder and try again.

“Ah… alpha…”

Better. And my alpha would agree-- he'd praise me for how prettily I'd called for him.  _ Simon _ , he'd say,  _ I love how you say that. Don't stop. _

I moan louder, spreading my fingers. I want to impress him.

_ Yes, Simon, look at you. So wet for me. _

I nod frantically. “Yes, yes, alpha, for you! I'm yours! Please!”

I feel a bit dirty saying things like that-- begging for an alpha-- but I don't really mind. It's kind of hot. My alpha thinks so too.

_ Merlin, Simon, you're so eager, love. _

I preen at being called love, even if I'm the one saying it in my own head. I have to admit, as weird as imagining an alpha is, it's definitely turning me on.

I push a third finger in, and my cock twitches in my hand.

_ You like that? _

His voice sounds a bit deeper than before, but I nod regardless.

I spread my fingers, and now it's even better than with two. It feels like I've got my alpha's thick cock splitting me open. I keen at that. Merlin, I would give anything to see how a cock would compare. I try to picture my alpha, pushing me down onto my back, pushing my shirt up my chest, and spreading me open, slamming in with one thrust. I lie down and mimic the motion with my fingers.

“Yes! Alpha!”

He smirks at me in a familiar way. Wait, wasn't he blonde? His hair is black now. Oh, who cares? He's hot either way.

I squeeze the head of my cock, and my hole flutters. I think I'm close.

_ Come on, Snow, don't tell me you're finished already? _

I flush, nodding. I've actually lasted a pretty long time when it comes to me, but I doubt I'll make it more than a few thrusts now.

I drag my fingers nearly all the way out and aim as precisely as I can.

“Alpha!”

I feel like I'm floating for a few seconds. I might be dead.

I settle back down onto the bed and realise the floating feeling came from the way my post-orgasm haze interpreted my back arching off the mattress.

I pull my fingers free, and a trail of slick connects them to my hole before breaking, sending a bit of the slick flying onto my exposed stomach alongside my come. It all looks so lewd.

I melt into the mattress, relaxing for a moment. I'm incredibly sated, more so than wanking has ever done for me. I haven't even used the dildo yet. I eye it thoughtfully. Maybe I'll use it when the next wave hits me.

It turns out I really do like blokes, then. After all, my alpha was firmly male. And Great Snakes, did I like him. I have a feeling I'll revisit his image soon. Black hair… grey eyes… yeah. Super hot.

And I've got a week to imagine him fucking me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapterrrrrrrr  
> I already have the next chapter written (with actual plot) but I think I'll post it tomorrow. This is just a short self-indulgent prelude.

**SIMON**

 

I'm on the third day of my heat, smack in the middle. Either today or tomorrow should be the most intense day out of the week, which is hard to picture with how intensely I've been fucking myself. But I'm prepared. I've done a lot of wanking (and fingering, of course). There wasn't exactly a lot to do other than get myself off, and I did really need it, so it was definitely better than being bored or overthinking it all and making myself embarrassed. I spent most of yesterday drooling from how good the pink dildo felt, and I think I'm ready for an upgrade.

I've picked out a blue one, a little longer and thicker than the first. What makes it special is the button on the bottom, though. According to the helpful list of items, it's a knotting dildo, meant to simulate an alpha with the inflating section at the base. I can't wait to see if being knotted is all it's hyped up to be.

I take a shower first, since I'm still sweaty and covered in drying slick and come. I'll be dirty again in a few seconds, since I haven't stopped dripping slick since the first day, but it's still nice to start fresh.

I step into the main room, still toweling off my hair, and the sight of the dildo on my bed makes my cock twitch in interest. I toss the towel onto the vanity to put up later and sit on the bed, back against the headboard.

I start with a pair of fingers, stretching myself a bit. I'd managed to refrain from doing this in the shower, so I genuinely need a bit of preparation. I spread my fingers in the way I now know I like.

“Ah… alpha…”

I squeeze my thighs against my arm, tilting my head to the side. I hardly notice when I bare my neck like that, a subconscious plea for an alpha's bite.

_ Snow, _ my alpha smiles, coming back to the forefront of my mind. He's been a constant in nearly every session, teasing and edging me until I'm begging for him like a slut.

“Alpha,” I gasp in reply, working my fingers deeper.

_ Do you really want this? _ His grey eyes twinkle with affection.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I spread my fingers again, and my hips twitch.

_ You want my knot?  _ The look in his eyes is less innocent now.

I moan. “Please…”

_ You'll have to ask with a little more enthusiasm than that. _ He sounds amused, like he's playing a game with me and winning.

“Alpha! Alpha, please! Please, give me your knot! I want you!”

_ See? I love it when you beg so prettily for me. _

I whimper at the praise, flushing. “Thank you, alpha!”

My fingers brush against my most sensitive spot, and I moan, tossing my head back. I press my fingers down purposefully, rubbing circles into the tight bundle of nerves.

My thighs are already trembling. I've learned exactly what brings me to the edge in the past few days, and it's paying off.

_ What happened to wanting my knot? _ He smirks, raising a black eyebrow.

Right, I don't want to come yet. I want to use the toy, and fill myself with something much more substantial.

Reluctantly, I pull my fingers out. I feel a strange sense of pride when I see just how much slick is coating them, gathering into thick drops that fall to the sheets. I hope my alpha-- my real alpha, when I find one-- likes slick, because I have a lot to give.

I carefully pick up the blue dildo with my clean hand and rub my pre-lubed fingers over the head, arousal stirring in my belly. It's really not that much bigger than the one I've been using, but even the promise of a small bit of extra stretch has me squirming excitedly. And that's before I get to the special feature.

I spread my legs wide, grinning eagerly, and bring the toy close. It brushes against my rim, and I shudder. The plastic is cold, but my slick is warm, making the touch confusing (though no less tantalising).

_ Ready, love? _

I whine as high as I can. I have no idea if that's actually a turn on for alphas, but I've been working under the assumption that it is, along with all the other little noises I make when I feel good. I imagine my alpha as appreciating it, at least.

_ I love the way you sound.  _ His pale cheeks are flushed.

I tilt my head back, baring my neck again for him. I'm so ready to be fucked out of my mind.

I press the tip in, and my hole clenches greedily, trying to take more. I shiver. As small as I thought the difference was, I can already feel it, the way it's pressing up against me and pushing my limits.

Eagerly, I push it farther, moaning all the way. It's like a whole new experience somehow. Every centimeter makes more slick gush out, covering even the parts of the toy that haven't reached my hole yet. I'm loving this, and it's still not fully inside.

I slide the dildo forward until it bottoms out. I sigh happily, flexing my calves. I feel full, exactly the way I wanted.

_ Do you feel good? _

“Yes, yes, it's perfect!” I nod in case my words aren't enough confirmation. It is perfect-- or as close to perfect as I can imagine right now. Maybe the haze of my heat is making it feel better than it really does, but I couldn't care less, because it's great right now.

I slide the toy back, then push it in again. There's a squelch of slick, and I whimper. It's not that my fingers can't do the job, but this is just big enough to make the stretch burn a bit, and it's making me lose control.

I move at the same slow pace for a few thrusts, curling my toes. The drag of the plastic against my insides is hypnotising. Soon, though, I grow impatient, seeking immediate pleasure over carefully breaking myself. I speed up, groaning at the wet sounds still filling the room.

I've only watched porn a few times, but I figured the ridiculous wetness was all for show. Unless I make more slick than most omegas, it doesn't seem like that's the case.

_ You're so dirty,  _ my alpha whispers in my ear, not slowing his pace.  _ So wet for me. Can you hear that? _

“Yes… yes, I'm so wet. I want you so badly, it's making me slick…”

I aim for my sweet spot, going even faster now. When I hit my mark, I squeal, throwing my head back so hard it bounces against the headboard.

_ Did I find something?  _ He asks teasingly, knowing exactly what happened.

I nod anyway. “Please, there, I want it there!”

He laughs a little.  _ Where? Here? _

I miss on purpose, landing just next to where I need it. I whimper, shaking my head. “You're so close, alpha! Please, please!”

_ Don't worry, love,  _ he chuckles, pushing my hair off my sweaty forehead and kissing the exposed skin.  _ I'm just teasing. _

I slam the head into the spot, and I keen. “Yes!”

I keep a steady pace, aiming the toy carefully, and soon I'm a babbling mess.

“Yes, yes, alpha, so good, you're so good, alpha! Need you!”

He smirks at me knowingly.  _ Are you close? _

“Yes!” I gasp, voice shaking as hard as my legs.

_ Then how about we get to what you begged so nicely for? _

I moan, nodding, and make sure the toy is seated firmly inside me, then shift my hold on the toy to reach for the bottom of it. I fumble for the button.

It clicks.

Suddenly, the world slows down, and fireworks are going off in my head. The knot is huge, stretching me more than I thought was possible. It’s pressing against spots I didn't know were sensitive, right at my rim, and I'm awed by how perfectly my body is made for an alpha.

Then time goes back to normal, and my eyes roll back in my head. I scream.

After several seconds of trembling and squirming uncontrollably, I feel my muscles relax. I slump against the headboard, whining quietly.

The knot is still pressing against the inside of my hole just right, and if I hadn't just orgasmed two seconds ago I'd be clenching around it excitedly. Instead, I take a moment to catch my breath, heart pounding.

When I can breathe, I press the button again, and the knot shrinks. The toy comes out easily, drenched in my slick.

I almost can't remember the terror I felt when my heat started. If someone had told me how mindblowingly amazing it would be, I would have gone into it much more calmly. It's still a huge change I'll have to get used to once my heat's over, but at least I can enjoy myself right now.

Just me and my alpha, making sure I enjoy my first heat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, back to your regularly scheduled plot! But don't let that fool you, this chapter and all the rest will include smut ;)

**BAZ**

 

“ **Open sesame!** ”

The doors to the dining room fly open ahead of me, and I walk into the room like I'm on a catwalk. I am nothing if not dramatic.

I do my best not to look at Snow. It'll annoy him more that way. I wouldn't be surprised if he thought I went missing just for him, so blatantly ignoring his gaze should rile him up nicely. As much as I'd like to see his expression, I'll have plenty of time when I get back to my dorm.

“Baz!”

For the love of magic, is he calling after me?

“Baz! Oi!”

I sit at my table without batting an eye.

“Gentlemen, what did I miss?”

Dev and Niall grin mischievously, quietly filling me in. Nothing interesting, really. It wouldn't have mattered if I was here, because it sounds incredibly boring.

“Oh, and Snow--” Dev starts, but Niall elbows him in the side.

“He'll find out soon enough!”

I raise an eyebrow. “What are you two not telling me?”

They share a glance, then smile playfully at me.

“Nothing,” Dev says in an overly sweet voice.

“Right,” I huff, rolling my eyes.

“Don't worry,” Niall snickers. “You'll know it when you see it.”

“What in the World of Mages is that supposed to mean?” I snarl.

They both giggle like buffoons, poking each other. They're a right pair of idiots, those two.

“Just trust us,” Dev hisses. “It's the biggest thing that's happened this year.”

“The biggest thing that's happened in our lifetimes!” Niall corrects, slamming his hands on the table. “Everyone was freaking out. I mean, we didn't even think it was possible.”

“Oh, come on, you know that's not why the news spread so quickly,” Dev chuckles, giving Niall a knowing look.

Niall guffaws. “What, spread like his le--”

Dev claps a hand over his mouth, giggling wildly. “Quiet!”

They're falling over themselves laughing, but I still have no idea what's so funny.

“When you two start acting your age, please let me know,” I sigh, taking a bite of bagel. (Merlin, has the food here always been this good?)

They refuse to explain themselves, just make vague remarks that send them into fits of laughter. By the time breakfast ends, I'm almost glad to get away from them.

I say goodbye and stalk out of the room, making my way down to Mummers House. Sure, Snow will try to interrogate me when he gets there, and I'm missing yet another day of classes, but I want nothing more than to fall into my school-issued bed and sleep for a thousand years. (Maybe Snow will wake me with a kiss.)

I throw open the door, only to be greeted by a mess of crisp bags and littered drink cans. Snow is somehow even more of a pig when I'm not around, it seems. I kick some of the mess to the side and clear a path to my bed.

I sink into the mattress, and a groan leaves me. It's been so long since I slept on a proper bed. I close my eyes, throwing an arm over my face. Maybe I can get a wink in.

My mind swims with Snow, Snow, Snow. I still haven't seen his face. I didn't let myself look. I missed him so damn much. And I know that my father would be disgusted. It's one thing to like blokes-- it's not extremely common or anything, but it's slowly becoming more accepted, which is a relief. But an alpha being in love with a male beta? That doesn't stop me from loving him, of course. I'd love him even if he was a fucking alpha. It's not that I like betas, just that I like  _ Snow _ .

I roll over onto my side, facing the wall, and try to focus on sleep. I can't rest with my mind racing like this. I just need to breathe. Relax.

The door flies open.

Immediately, I'm hit with a scent that's distinctly omega. I cringe, curling up on myself. He finally got laid, then? Another blow to my psyche.

“Baz,” Snow says.

I gather my thoughts and sit up, pushing my hair from my face. I don't turn to look at him. “Snow.”

I hear him stomp closer. He has no sense of tact.

“Where have you been?”

“How is that any of your business?” I snap.

He hesitates. Good.

“I know what you were up to. Following me. Watching me.”

I scoff. “You really think I have the time to do something so stupid?”

He goes quiet again.

“And what is that smell?” I ask, even though I don't want to know.

“Took you long enough to notice.”

I have to hold back a growl. Mighty proud of himself, isn't he?

“Actually,” I hiss, “I noticed quite quickly, because it's permeating the air. I feel bad for whatever little omega you slept with. She,” because there's no chance it was a he, “probably had no idea you'd be so open with the scent marking. I bet it was some one-night stand who wishes she could wash the evidence right off you. Instead, you're wearing her scent like a badge of honor. Well, it's not honorable, Snow.”

The room isn't just quiet, it's silent. He's not even breathing. For a moment, I think my tongue was so sharp it killed him.

“Baz, will you please just look at me?”

I grit my teeth and shift on the bed to face him. “You're just scared because I'm right.”

“Baz.” His voice is soft. He doesn't look like he's going to cry, or go off. He looks uncomfortable, like I've said something mildly offensive and he's scared to say so.

I finally stop leering and really look at him.

His tie is blue.

I can tell my hands are shaking, but it's like I'm watching it happen from far away.

“When did you…”

Snow frowns. “When did I what?”

I swallow. “When did you present?”

“How is that any of your business?”

I flinch a little.

He crosses his arms. “Will you please stop insulting me with no evidence and telling me I smell bad now?”

I never said he smelled bad, just that it was strong. No, it's not bad. He smells like peaches, or something just as sweet and ripe and juicy. It's intoxicating. I want to assure him that I love his scent, that I'd do anything to smell it all the time.

Instead, I say, “I didn't think you could present this late.”

He huffs. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“I mean…” I swallow. “If not a beta, I thought for sure you'd be--”

“An alpha. I get that a lot too.”

I don't know what to say for a moment. Simon Snow is an omega. The bloke I thought I had no chance with, the one I thought people would judge me for loving, is an omega.

“You, an omega? It's…” a dream come true. Too good to be real. A fairytale ending. “Weird.”

He snorts. “You're telling me.”

I realise something.

“Wait. We're roommates. Shouldn't alphas not room with omegas?” Because it's socially acceptable for alphas and omegas to see each other sexually.

Snow looks at me like I've grown a second head. “What, you think just because I'm an omega now I'll want to sleep with you?” That stings more than he probably meant it to. “Keep it family friendly on your end and I will too.”

I nod. “Of course. I didn't mean--”

“I know.” He smiles a little. “I'm still getting used to it, too, don't worry.” His expression shifts. “But I will find out what you've been plotting.”

I roll my eyes. “Don't hold your breath, Snow.” This is easier. Bickering, acting like enemies. Not like whatever just happened between us.

Snow walks over to his desk, gathering his things so he can shove them haphazardly into his schoolbag before he goes to class. Just like that, he's acting like everything is normal.

It's not normal. He's standing there in a blue tie, smelling delectable, probably having presented only a few weeks ago. It's never going to be the same as before. Sure, he doesn't look any different, his usual brand of beautiful, but it's like I'm seeing him in a different light. The light of possibility.

It occurs to me that this is what Dev and Niall were giggling about. It figures they'd make jokes and innuendos about this. I kind of wish they'd told me, so I didn't have to make a fool of myself in front of Snow, but I'm also sure they would have made it into a pun or something. They don't appreciate the miracle that is Snow's presentation.

Snow makes a little noise of confusion, tilting his head as he searches for something, and a new wave of his sticky-sweet smell goes right to my stomach, arousal pooling dangerously.

I try to keep my cool.

He stuffs his school supplies into his bag and steps out of the room without another word, off for a day of classes, leaving me alone in a dorm room that smells like him.

I count to one hundred and twenty in my head. It's excruciating. I need to know that he won't come barging in again.

As soon as I reach the last number, I leap off my bed, rushing over to his. This is dangerous, but I have to check. His smell was everywhere, still is, because it's so strong, abnormally strong, like his body is trying to make up for the years when he hadn't presented, so the whole room stinks of him. But more importantly, he slept in this bed last night. He got out of it only a few hours ago. Surely…

I lift a pillow and bury my face in it. I can't help but moan. (Thank magic everyone is in class right now, or someone on another floor might have heard me.) It smells just like him, like a fruit ready to be picked. It's like I'm nosing at his neck, taking it in straight from the source, but he'll never know. I don't have to make him uncomfortable to get more of this delicious scent.

I can already feel my trousers straining, just from this. I take another deep breath, shuddering.

Maybe he wouldn't notice if I swapped our pillows-- gave him one of mine and took this one. But it's risky, a half-baked idea fueled by hormones. Better to take advantage of it now and leave everything how it was once he gets back. Besides, if I take it, it'll lose his scent. I could just steal it every now and then and give it back before he notices, so it'll always smell fresh.

One more sniff, and I'm panting like I've run a marathon. Who knew Snow could somehow get even sexier, more alluring, more tempting? I want him so badly.

I manage to tear the pillow away from my nose, wide-eyed and rock hard. At this rate, I'll come just from the smell. (That sounds bloody fantastic, actually.)

I entertain the thought of using it like some kind of perverted toy, lying down on the bed and grinding my hips against it. I can imagine it covered in my come. I'd spell it clean after.

My better judgement stops me, and I set the pillow down as carefully as I can, trying to put it in the same place as before.

That doesn't change the fact that my bollocks are probably literally blue by now. I make an executive decision and step into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Time for a shower.

I strip quickly, setting the water temperature even hotter than normal. It's burning, but I like it that way.

I place one hand on the shower wall to steady myself and take my cock in the other. I groan a little, biting my lip. I'm so fucking hard, all from Snow's new scent. It's still filling my nose like I have the pillow here with me-- it's that strong.

I start with slow strokes, but even that's making me moan. My hand stutters along my shaft, and I can feel my legs shaking.

I carefully even out my pace, panting as I slide my hand up and down the length of my cock. Precome gathers at the tip, despite the fact that I've just started, and I'm worried I might finish before I can even give myself a good reason to.

I steady myself, shifting my weight to plant my feet more firmly on the shower floor. I'm determined to last.

I play with the head of my cock first, flicking my thumb over the slit and squeezing rhythmically. When I think I'm going to come, I move my hand down a bit, focusing on a section at a time. I try to keep my hips still, but it's difficult. I want to thrust frantically, to make quick strokes without any thought behind them and lose myself to the rhythm. But I need to draw this out while I have the chance.

When I've made it all the way to the base of my cock, I decide I deserve a reward for my patience.

I conjure up Snow's image on the backs of my eyelids.

Normally when I wank to thoughts of him, I try to keep in mind that he's a beta. But he's not, he never was. He's an omega, one that smells like a fruity dessert, whose pheromones smell like he's trying to attract an alpha without saying so. (He'd never be clever enough to do that consciously, but his scent is lustful and thick, seducing me even when he's not trying.)

I try to imagine what he'd be like with someone he fancied. With his mate. Blown pupils, half-lidded eyes, slightly parted lips. Smelling of slick, spreading his legs incrementally where he sits, teasing at the hem of his pants with his finger.

I growl without meaning to, feeling incredibly possessive all of a sudden.

I imagine him slipping his pants lower, revealing a few golden curls, then stopping again. He gives me a wink.

I tighten my grip, moaning. I would give anything to run my fingers over that patch of skin, tangle them in that hair. I don't even care that much about pulling his pants down more; just this image is amazingly arousing.

He spreads his legs further, revealing the dark patch of slick there. He grinds his hips in naughty little circles, licking his lips.

I can't help but mirror the motion with my own hips, squeezing my eyes shut tighter. My hand bumps into the beginnings of my knot, and I gasp. It's been so long since I wanked, much less popped a knot.

Snow grins, sliding his pants down to his thighs. His cock is small but proud, standing up on display for my eyes only. My gaze drifts lower, and I fight a whine. He's dripping slick nonstop, making a mess of his pants and the bed he's sitting on. It's like a fountain. He drags a finger through it, gathering a bit of it and popping it into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the digit.

I groan, hips twitching forward into my fist. He's going to destroy me one way or another.

Snow gives me a well-practiced look, eyelashes fluttering seductively, and uses the hand not in his mouth to spread himself open, offering me his bright pink hole. Without a word, he's asking me to take him, to wreck him, to make him melt into a puddle of pleasure.

Snarling, I move my hand faster. I'm filled with need, but also with  _ want _ . I want to feel good. I want to make him feel good. I want to fill him with my cock until he can't take any more. I want to watch him come apart under my touch. I want to hear him say my name. I want to be the only one who gets to see him like this. I want anything and everything.

As I lose control of my hips again, I can feel my orgasm building in my gut.

Snow is on his hands and knees, taking me so well, whimpering at how I fill him.

I move my hand up and down my cock as quickly as I can. My hand hits my knot at the base again, and I nearly lose my balance.

When I thought Snow was a beta, I figured I'd have to ease him onto my knot, stretching him and being careful not to hurt him, all while he assured me he wanted it.

But now that Snow is an omega? He wouldn't just be okay with taking a knot, he'd probably beg for it.

_ Ah-- Baz! Please! Please, I'll be good for you! I'll do anything! Please, please knot me! _

I moan loudly, moving my strokes to focus on the spot just above my knot, hitting it with my hand each time. I'm so close.

I struggle to keep myself in that spot where I can just feel the orgasm about to crash over me like a wave, but I don't let myself go any further. My thighs shake with the impossible amount of willpower it's taking not to spill all over my hand right now.

I picture Snow's legs quivering as well, imagine him keening at the force I'm putting into each thrust. He moans and gasps in time with my movements, shifting his hips back to meet mine. He's so good for me. A perfect omega. Tight and warm and wet, making the most beautiful noises. He only wants one more thing.

I tighten my grip as much as I can and, in one sharp movement, slide my fist lower, clenching down on my knot.

“Simon!”

My legs tremble, and I do my best to keep my grip on the wall.

There's so much come, making my cock twitch and shake. I snarl when I see it washing down the drain (it would be put to much better use making my omega feel warm and full), but this is why I came in the shower in the first place. I can only lean my head against the wall, panting as my body shakes through each spurt of come. My knot throbs in my hand.

It's been nearly five minutes when it finally goes down, and I feel like I've just swam the English Channel.

I swallow, taking my hand off my cock. I still wish I could have done it for real, had Snow here with me instead of imagining a sluttier, more experienced version of him. But on the other hand, that was one of the most arousing fantasies I've ever created.

Snow's presentation is simultaneously the worst and the best thing to ever happen. I wonder if I'll survive.


	4. Chapter 4

**SIMON**

 

Baz has been acting strange ever since he got back. At first I thought it was the obvious: he was putting together the final puzzle pieces for his plot to destroy me, and any day now I'd be toast.

But “any day now” turned into a week, and he was just as awkwardly nervous. It didn't really look like he was getting ready to kill me; if anything, he seemed scared of me. In fact, he'd been avoiding fights, allowing minor disputes to dissolve and conceding on more things. I kept worrying it was the calm before the storm, and soon he'd lash out at me in double. But he never did.

The only evidence I could find of his tampering was that occasionally one of my pillows would end up on his bed, but I'm not sure what evil fate would befall me from that. Maybe neck pains. It wasn't very hard to just take it back, though.

That leaves me with nothing. No reason why Baz would be this skittish around me. It's unnerving. Since when is Baz nice to me?

I step into Magic Words class on Monday and prepare myself for round two. This week, I'll find the pattern. I'll make out what he's hiding from the rest of the background noise.

“You've got that look on your face,” Penny sighs. “Whatever you're up to, it's a bad idea.”

“Baz is the one who's up to something,” I hiss conspiratorially.

Apparently I wasn't as cleverly quiet as I thought I was, because Baz straightens in his seat, turning to glare at me. That's good, at least-- his glaring is sort of a staple for him, so maybe he's leaving the “make Simon think you're weak” phase of his plot and starting “make him realise you're not.”

I square my shoulders, glaring right back.

His eyes flicker, losing hold with mine. At first, I'm surprised. Baz isn't one to back down from a challenge, especially something as simple as a staring contest. But his eyes are focused just a bit lower.

I clap a hand over my tie, eyebrows furrowing.

“Simon,” Penny whispers. “Come on.”

I let her lead me to our seats, keeping my eyes trained on Baz.

“What is his problem?” I growl as we sit.

“You, probably,” she sighs.

The bell rings, but I can't focus on whatever Miss Possibelf is lecturing over. (I feel bad; this is the second time I'm mentally somewhere else during her class.) I keep sneaking glances at Baz, trying to see if he does anything suspicious. At one point he draws something on his paper that could be a clue if I was close enough, but just as quickly he makes a face and scratches it out. Overall, nothing clearly evil. Nothing I notice, at least.

When class ends, I trail after him. Penny glares at me, but I give her a confident look. I know what I'm doing. I think.

It's usually sort of a curse that Baz and I share so many classes, but today I'm glad. I have my eye on him nearly the entire day. He keeps throwing me little glaring looks, but I don't let it bother me.

When I make it back to my dorm after dinner, I feel good about my observation skills… although now that I think about it, I didn't actually accomplish much, since he didn't give anything away.

Regardless, I'm in a great mood. I dig around in my bedside drawer and fish out a bag of crisps, popping it open. I deserve it. (I've also been eating a lot more greasy and fatty foods ever since I presented, and I really want some right now.) I lean against the wall beside my bed.

The door slams open behind me just as I crunch down on the first crisp, and I jump, turning to look.

Baz is as red in the face as he can be, dark eyebrows making his anger that much more visible. He storms towards me, fuming. Suddenly, he swings his arm back, ready to punch me, and for some reason I yelp, going so far as to drop the bag. That makes him pause, confused by my reaction.

"What the hell, Baz?" I ask. "You can't just come in here and try to beat me up for no reason!"

“For no reason?” Baz shouts, stepping closer.

I bite my lip, and for some reason I'm frozen. I can't do anything but watch him walk up to me.

“I…”

He snarls, slamming his hands against the wall on either side of my head. “You still don't know what privacy is, do you? You’ve been watching me like a hawk!”

He's right in my face, and I get the feeling I should be cowering in fear, but I'm stuck. The most I can do is breathe.

His scent wafts in. Earthy and a bit like wood. Deep and rich.

Something clicks, a million revelations I didn't know I'd had coming together at once.

“You're an alpha,” I breathe.

Not just any alpha,  _ my  _ alpha, the one I imagined in my heat. He's here, real. He's imposing and strong. I'm losing myself in cloudy grey eyes, tracing his long black hair with my gaze, entranced by thick eyebrows. He's got plush lips contradicting a sharp jawline, soft pouty eyes just above high cheekbones. He's perfect-- or my mental construction of him was perfect, at least.

“What?” Baz doesn't look nearly as excited as I feel. “Of course I'm an alpha, you dimwit.”

Oh. I've forgotten a crucial detail: Baz hates me.

I can't tell him; he'd tease me and tell me how stupid I am. He'd never let me live it down. He'd tell me to get in line with every other omega on campus. He'd tell me I was just a silly little omega projecting my wants onto the nearest alpha.

Instead, I say quickly, “I just don't feel safe right now.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Safe? Why would you feel safe? I'm threatening you, in case you hadn't noticed.”

“No, I mean--” I put on a wounded omega look, or what I think it would be. “You're an alpha, crowding me in like this, making me feel lesser. I don't feel safe right now.”

He steps back, arms suddenly glued to his sides.

“Sorry.” Apparently he's just as surprised as I am to hear him say that, because his eyebrows shoot up.

We stand there for a moment, and I don't know what we're waiting for. Then he turns on his heel and leaves the room, slamming the door again on his way out.

I take a shaky breath and sit on my bed.

Baz. It was Baz all along. My first heat started because I was so worried about him, and then I imagined he was here and got off on it. And now my heart is pounding because he trapped me against a wall.

But Baz would think I was crazy if I said all that. He'd laugh in my face.

And wouldn't I do the same? We hate each other. Just because I have some sexual attraction to him doesn't mean I want to be in a romantic commitment with him. It doesn't mean he's not my enemy. It doesn't mean we're not destined to kill each other. It's a sexual fantasy and nothing more. A really, really weird sexual fantasy.

I just need to make myself forget. I need to go back to normal, before he sees I'm weak right now. Or else… or else he could take advantage of my distraction and use it against me. I wouldn't put it past him to take what makes me feel vulnerable and ruin me even more thoroughly.

I swallow hard. I need to get this attraction, this sexual tension, out of my system. This is the last time, and then… I can forget all of it. Pretend he never made me feel that way.

I stand on trembling legs and push my way into the bathroom. I don't know when Baz will be back, if at all, but I don't have time to think about that. I lock the door and strip.

I fill the bathtub. The water is warm against my skin, not boiling like Baz always wants it. I climb over the edge of the tub and sit in the water. Normally, I'd just wank during a proper shower, but I want to make this feel like it did during my heat, and I can’t very well do it on my bed out in the open.

At first, I’m not even sure what to do. I haven’t touched myself since my heat ended, and I’m scared it won’t be anywhere near as good. I sit in the water for a moment, blushing a little.

I try to focus on what got me riled up in the first place. Baz, practically pressed against me, his smell filling my senses. My mind twists the memory, subtly at first-- Baz isn’t yelling at me, he’s just speaking, but there’s an edge to his voice, a raspy growl that makes me shiver.

_ You have no concept of privacy, _ he breathes.

I do my best not to respond out loud.  _ I’m sorry, alpha. _

_ Call me by my name. _

Even though I’m the one imagining him saying it, I hesitate.

_ I’m sorry, Baz. Can I make it up to you? _

He smirks, leaning closer.  _ What did you have in mind? _

I swallow. I can feel myself getting hard. Squeezing my eyes shut, I spread my legs and tilt my head to the side.

He snarls, grinning.  _ Good choice. _

I press two fingers to my rim, shuddering, and push in until I reach the knuckles. I imagine it’s Baz’s cock, stretching me in all the right ways. Starting with slow strokes, I drag my fingers against my skin, across my prostate when I move in and over the sensitive spots just at my rim when I pull back out. A whimper escapes me.

_ You’re so pretty, Snow. Just look at you. _

I flush at the praise, toes curling.

_ You’re perfect. Such a good omega. _

My hips twitch upwards. This is what I needed. I’m starting to think it’s the reason I made up this fantasy-- I was hoping for a Baz who liked me, who would treat me like a person, who’d tell me nice things. It’s just a perk to hear those compliments in a sexual setting.

Carefully, I spread my fingers. I whine, fingers trembling inside myself from the pleasure. Now that the haze of heat is gone, it might not be enough to make me scream and gasp, but it’s definitely good. I press my fingers together again and thrust deeper, shivering.

_ You take me so well, even when you’re not in heat, _ he says, expression fond. _ You’re a natural at this. _

I smile a little, panting.  _ Thank you. I want to show you how good I can be. _

I thrust again, a short and sharp motion, aiming for my prostate. I have to clamp my free hand over my mouth to stop myself from calling his name.

Was this such a good idea after all? Or am I just making it worse? At least when I was in heat I had no idea it was him. I should stop.

I spread my fingers again.

My hand shakes as I bring it down from my mouth, and I gently grip my cock. A shudder flies through my body at the contact. I try to move my hands in time with each other, but that rarely works out for me, especially when it comes to getting off. Either way, the touch on my cock feels good.

My hand trembles as I move it down my shaft, and I try to spread my fingers at the same time, opening and closing them at a steady pace. I whine, tipping my head back. If I keep this up, I might finish embarrassingly fast.

_ How cute, _ Baz breathes.  _ You’re so inexperienced.  _ He pouts at me.  _ As adorable as it would be to watch you come, I’d like to enjoy this a little longer. _

I try to calm down, thrusting even slower. I rub my hand over the head of my cock, focusing my attention there. It’s nice, but less intense. I feel a lot more in control, like I’m not going to come at any second without warning. It’s also boring, and soon I’m squirming for something more fulfilling.

I press my fingers hard against my prostate, rubbing little circles there that make me want to cry from the overstimulation. It’s hard to focus when the pressure there is like coal being crushed into diamonds, and the hand on my cock stops for a second as I try to remember how to breathe. I curl up, ducking my head against my chest, and the keen that fills the bathroom is completely obscene.

_ Oh? You like that? _ Baz asks, chuckling.

“Yes,” I whisper, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. After all the noises I’ve already made, I probably don’t have much left to lose.

_ You look so precious like this. Do you think you could come just from this? _

I moan, nodding frantically. “If-- if that’s what you want.”

He looks excited.  _ Let’s see it, then. _

I lift my hand from my cock, using it to spread my thighs further. It wasn’t doing much anyhow.

I put all the energy I have into the tiniest and fastest of circles, like my life depends on them. In this moment, it sort of feels like it does, like the one thing tethering me to reality is the constant loop of my fingers. Soon I’m drooling all over myself, mouth hanging open as I try to stay sane. It seems like it’s been hours since I started, but I know that’s not true. It’s just that good, like this motion is somehow bending space and time.

_ I love the faces you make when you feel good, _ Baz laughs.  _ You’re so beautiful, all the time. _

I whine, gritting my teeth. I don’t know how I’m still alive when I feel this amazing. My cock aches, and the urge to just touch myself and finish is too much to bear.

_ No cheating, _ he teases, eyes glinting.  _ You said you’d do it if I wanted you to. _

“I will,” I whimper. “I just… I need…”

_ I know, love. It’ll be worth it, I promise. You’ll do so well. You always do. _

How can I disagree with him?

I pause my assault on my prostate for a second. If I give myself a moment to recover…

I slam my fingers back in one thrust.

“Baz!” I gasp, and I disappear into white-hot pleasure once more.

When I come to, I’m exhausted, but there’s also a feeling of closure. This is it. From now on, no imagining Baz, in heat or otherwise.

I drain the tub (I’ll spell it clean just in case once I get dressed and grab my wand) and take a real shower, washing off the sweat and come.

When I step out of the bathroom (in my uniform again, since I didn’t bring anything to change into), I’m relieved when I see Baz hasn’t come back. I don’t know what I’d tell him. The truth? “Oh, hey, Baz. I was just trying to wank away my sexual attraction to you.” It wouldn’t go over well, no matter what I said. I’m just glad he didn’t hear me.

I poke my head out the door of the room, just to make sure he isn’t hiding in the hallway. I don’t see Baz, but I do see a sixth year with a blue tie on who’s flushed down to his neck. I blush and offer him an awkward wave. At least he’s not an alpha.

“There are, uh, silencing spells,” he squeaks.

I can’t think of anything in response, so I close the door again.

At least I can move on now. No more visions of Baz. No more hearing him say nice things to me in my head. I can focus, and I don’t have to feel guilty about whatever it is I felt for him. It’s done.

(I wank to thoughts of him again that Saturday.)

(And the next.)

(Maybe getting over this isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.)


	5. Chapter 5

**BAZ**

 

I wake up Wednesday morning and see Snow still drooling onto his pillow. (Mouth-breather.) I may not be a morning person, but I can at least wake up, which is more than can usually be said for Snow.

I pull open my wardrobe and grab the uniform I set out last night. I remember my hairbrush on my bedside table and go back for it.

Just as I'm turning back to the bathroom, Snow's eyes fly open, and he gasps, sitting up.

I fumble my clothes, caught off-guard, and they fall into a pile on the floor

“Merlin, Snow! What's got your panties in a twist?”

He rubs his eyes with his palms, but he's swaying a little. Maybe he's still asleep? Like sleepwalking. Sleep scaring-your-roommate.

“Uh… I don't…”

I wait for him to finish, but he just shakes his head a little. I hate to admit it, but seeing him half-asleep is kind of cute.

I sigh. “Snow, are you awake or not?”

He considers this for a moment. “Think so.”

I sigh. “Well is this quite important? I was going to take a shower.”

He pouts a little and squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “I…”

“Alright. See you, Snow.” I reach for my uniform on the floor.

He grabs my sleeve, stopping me. I glance over my shoulder.

“Baz…”

He shifts his position, kneeling and sitting on his heels.

The smell is like a punch to the face. Like a whole fucking orchard's worth of peaches, all for me. It's making my mouth water.

He's got the dirtiest expression on his face, looking up at me through his lashes and tugging at his full rosy lips with his teeth.

This is a dream, I realise. Because there's no way the real Snow would give me a “come hither” look like that.

I pinch myself.

Oh. This is real.

“Baz,” he says again, voice scratchy with sleep and arousal.

Fuckfuckfuck what do I do?

His eyebrows are pinched up in what's probably worry but just looks adorable. “Baz, I think I'm in heat.”

My eyes widen, and I wrench my sleeve out of his grip, stumbling backwards. “That's-- I--”

He swallows. “Could you… help me? I mean-- you're my alpha.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“You can make it better.” He leans forward, wide-eyed. “You'll be my alpha, like I know you can.” He stands from his bed, stretching a hand out to me.

I shake my head, taking another step back. The back of my leg hits the edge of my bed, and I stumble, falling backwards onto the mattress. I try to sit up, but it takes me a second. “Snow, you're not in your right mind. You--” I choke on my words, eyes prickling dangerously. “You don't want me.”

He grins. “I do! I want you, Baz. I wasn't going to tell you, but that's silly. You can help me. And sure, at first I thought it was a purely sexual thing, but I'm realising that…” he blushes. “I think I like you, Baz.” He plays with the hem of his pyjama bottoms, looking shy and innocent despite the fact that he's trying to get in my pants.

He can't play with my emotions like this. He can't lead me on with false confessions.

“Listen to me,” I say, and my voice is shaking. “You don't like me. If I were any other alpha, you'd act the same way.”

He shakes his head, and I want to cry. “That's not true! You're my alpha, Baz. You. Not anyone else.” He steps closer, leaning over my bed.

I grit my teeth. “You're delusional. The heat is messing with your head.”

“But I--”

“No,” I growl. “You don't get it. You have to go to the heat rooms. You have to get away from me, and every other alpha in this dorm.”

He bites his lip. “Baz, I-- please, let me explain myself. I just-- Merlin, it's hard to think right now…”

I reach around him for my wand. “ **A little bird told me.** ”

He watches in awe as a sparrow flies in through the window, landing on my outstretched finger.

“Tell Bunce that Snow is in heat and needs help,” I say with as much composure as I can.

The bird chirps and flies away, and I set my wand down.

Snow looks wounded. “You're just going to have her come drag me away?”

“I'm trying to protect you,” I huff.

He smiles at that. “You see? You care about me. I hoped you did. You'd be a perfect alpha.”

How am I supposed to work with him when he's like this? He's twisting my heartstrings into knots, smiling like a cherub as he does it.

“If you're going to explain, then explain,” I manage. “Bunce will be here soon.”

He places his hands on my shoulders like this is of the utmost importance. “It's hard to think of-- of words right now. But you have to know that I... I can't stop thinking about you. I think I really do like you, Baz.”

I tell myself it's not real. He's doing whatever he can to make me cave. He’s under his heat’s influence.

“I thought I just wanted you to fuck me,” he breathes, and I feel a bit of heat at the tips of my ears. (That's impressive for me.) “But it's more than that. I've been imagining it. I mean-- I’ve been imagining the fucking. But also all the nice things you would say to me, if you were my alpha. And I like it. I like it a lot.”

I hesitate. “Just because you had some wet dream or something last night--”

“No, that's not what I mean! I--” he struggles to form words for a moment. “Today isn't the start. I've been hooked on you for weeks.”

My heart skips a beat. Surely he's not serious?

The look in his eyes says otherwise. He's on the verge of tears, bottom lip trembling as he stares me down.

“Baz,” he whispers, sounding broken. “I need you. I don't need an alpha, I need  _ my  _ alpha.”

I want him. So, so much.

“How about this?” I offer, hands shaking. “When your heat is over, we try this conversation again. If you-- if you still--”

He smiles weakly. “Or-- or you could trust that I'm telling the truth and take care of me.”

I sigh. “Simon, trust me when I say I would love to fuck you right now.” It’s the most open I’ve ever been with him. He flushes, mouth dropping into a pretty pink O. “But I won't take advantage of you while you're in heat. So when you're in control of your actions, we'll discuss.”

He doesn't look very happy with this compromise, but he nods.

I don't know what to do with myself right now. Snow is still in front of my bed, washing his ripe, juicy scent over me, having just told me he's been thinking about me as a potential mate for weeks. I can't even be mad at myself for being hard right now.

Snow squirms a bit, looking like he wants to say something.

I reach up to touch his cheek. Then, before I can overthink it, I pull him down and kiss him.

He’s so warm against my lips. The scent of slick grows in the room. It’s not exactly how I envisioned my first kiss, but it’s incredible.

We pull apart after a few seconds, and he gapes at me, looking like he's not sure whether to be surprised or excited.

I just smile.

The door creaks open, and Bunce peeks inside.

“Basilton Pitch, if you laid a hand on him--”

I raise my hands in surrender. “I would never.”

She sighs and walks closer, taking Snow's hand.

“Come on,” she sighs. “Once your heats are on a predictable schedule, I expect you to walk yourself to the heat rooms the night before.”

Snow nods, but he's still got his eyes trained on mine.

“Simon?”

“Ah… sorry.” He smiles, just for me, and Bunce drags him away.

I can’t believe that just happened. Merlin, that didn’t feel real. I know I already pinched myself, but I’m still not convinced I’m awake.

Snow wants me.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

I can only wish that he won’t change his mind when his heat’s over; when he doesn’t feel like he needs an alpha so badly. If he does, I won’t be able to live with myself. He’s given me hope now: if he tells me it was all instinct, it’ll be worse than it ever would have been before, because I wouldn’t have thought I had a chance.

I have a chance.

I can’t help but laugh, falling back onto my bed. I never thought anything good would come of this awful, horrible, terrific crush. But here I am, hard and panting from kissing Simon Snow. (And from hearing him say he liked me.) (And from telling him I wanted to fuck him.) (And from smelling his heat.)

Even if he does tell me it was all a mistake, I’ll have this moment. A week of blissful ignorance.

And a much-needed wanking session.

I sit up and grab for my wand again. “ **Do not disturb.** ” The door locks with a click. “ **Keep it down.** ” There’s nothing to tell me it worked, but my silencing spells have never failed me. I shove my wand inside my drawer, eager to use my hand for something else.

I slide off my pyjama bottoms, heart pounding. I slip my hand down my pants and squeeze my eyes shut. I’m already so fucking hard, it’s not even funny. I could come from one touch if I wasn’t careful. Or if it was Snow’s one touch.

I shudder, leaning my head back against the wall. Snow. The way he looked at me... 

I start stroking slowly, trying to keep my breathing even.

He grinned at me like he’d give me the world if he could. And before that, the sultry look he gave me was nowhere near the naïve little beta I thought I knew. It made me want to ignore my moral code and make him forget his own name. (I guess that was the point.)

I keep that expression in my mind, and my hand starts to speed up of its own volition. Even these light, fluttering touches have me close, and I grip the bed sheets with my other hand to ground myself. It doesn’t help, and when my hand brushes against the head of my cock, I moan.

I can still smell Snow, and it’s distracting. It’s so strong, it lingers even after several minutes. It feels embarrassing to admit, but he smelled ready to be bred. Not that I’d actually do that, but I have to admit the thought makes my cock twitch. I’m not sure if it’s a personal kink or something to do with alpha instincts. Either way, it makes me flustered, and I bite my lip, flicking my thumb over the tip of my cock. I suck in a breath, and it only brings more of his heat scent, flooding my nostrils. It’s like some kind of lewd peach cobbler. (I can’t be bothered to come up with a better metaphor, even though Snow deserves one.)

I slide my hand down my shaft, gritting my teeth, and my knot meets me at the base, not quite full but getting there. I’d like to knot my fist again, simply because it’s enjoyable, but that somehow feels like a betrayal. Instead, I tease at it, tugging and clenching my hand over it in between strokes. It’s probably the most sensitive part of my cock, and while I’ll probably regret not just popping it, I can at least take advantage of how good it feels when I play with it.

Even though I’m trying to keep a steady pace with each stroke, I can feel myself moving faster as I get more excited, completely losing my original tempo. (My violin teacher would be horrified.)

I lift my hand from the bed and run my fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my face. How am I sweating so profusely? I suppose the fact that I feel like I could come at any moment might have something to do with it.

I squeeze the head of my cock, and a growl rips itself from my chest. My whole body is trembling, like I’m in the middle of a fucking earthquake. Snow is about as powerful as one, anyhow. Just thinking of him again makes me moan. I almost wouldn’t mind if I came right now, as long as it was because of him.

My orgasm is tugging at my gut insistently. I’m not sure what else I can do, other than breathe. Even that is difficult, because of how thickly his scent hangs in the room. It only makes my cock throb in my hand, and I make a pitiful noise in the back of my throat. My fingers twitch as I try not to spontaneously combust.

Suddenly, Snow’s face comes back in full force, his voice soft and sincere.  _ You're my alpha, Baz. _

I moan, grip tightening. Snow, my omega. I’d be the only one to see him completely debauched. The only one to take him apart with my fingers. The only one to take care of him during his heat, like I wish I could be right now.

Is he thinking about me, too? I hope so. I hope he’s screaming my name for everyone to hear. I hope he’s imagining my face, my voice, my body. I picture him frantically pressing his fingers into himself, whimpering for me.

I groan, hips thrusting uncontrollably. Some part of me thinks we could be synchronised right now, like every time the pleasure is too much to handle it’s because Snow is feeling just as good. It’s silly and romantic and has no basis, but I let myself have this.

I want to be there for him next time, if he’ll let me. I want to be his mate. I want to be his alpha, the way he said. “My alpha,” so sure of himself-- like it was meant to be that way. Like I’m the only one he could ever be with.

My thighs are shaking, and I realise all at once that I won’t last much longer. I keep my mind on Snow, touching himself and calling for me, face scrunched up, slick dripping onto the bed. I’m sure my imagination will never compare to the real thing, but it’s enough to make my hand tremble on my cock.

I press my thumb to the tip one last time, and I feel my senses dissolve into white noise. The only thing I can hear is my voice gasping out, “Simon…”

I relax against the wall, waiting for reality to catch up. My bed is a mess now, but I can’t bring myself to spell it away just yet. All I can think about is when I’ll be able to talk to Snow again.

This will be the longest week of my life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support! It was a much-needed ego boost. :D  
> I hope you enjoy this final chapter! This doesn't I won't write more A/B/O, just maybe not in this plotline. AUs galore! Until then, have fun ;)

**BAZ**

 

I'm exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, physically. Every morning, I wake and think,  _ where's Snow? _

I go through the motions today, taking a shower and changing into my uniform, but I don't really feel it. I haven't even slicked my hair back. I just brushed it and left it alone.

I step out of the bathroom, starting for my school bag.

The door to my room opens slowly, and a familiar face pokes his way inside.

He looks stunning, the light coming in from the window making his curls glow like a halo. He's wearing a white cotton tee and joggers, probably lent to him by the heat attendants after he left here in his pyjamas.

I walk closer to the door, wide-eyed. "Simon. I…"

I'm not sure what to say. How do you follow up kissing someone just after they told you they liked you but you're not sure if it was real or not because they were in heat so maybe it was all some psychological trick and--

He leans forward and kisses me.

His hands are burning hot where they push through my hair, and his lips are so soft. I relax under his touch, and it's impossible to focus on anything else. His mouth tastes sweet, and I can still smell the lingering remains of his heat.

When he pulls back, I find myself trailing after him. He smiles a little, and my ears feel warm when I glance down at the floor. Merlin, I'm far gone.

"I missed you," he breathes, and I can't help but look up again. I'm not the only one blushing. "I missed you a lot."

I bite my lip. "So you meant it? You like me?"

He nods happily. "I've been thinking about the alpha stuff for a while, but I don't think I realised I really  _ liked _ you until I had you in front of me."

My heart pangs.

"I didn't think you'd like me back," he says quietly, eyebrows pulling up.

The words come to me almost too easily. "Simon, I've liked you since I met you."

His eyes widen, and they're blue, blue, blue. "But…" he shakes his head. "I thought you only started liking me when I presented!"

"Simon," I smile, "I would like you no matter what. Because you're you."

His expression is brighter than any  **let there be light** . "Baz, I--" he grins. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Well, I want to say a million more."

He flushes darkly, eyes shining. "I'd love that."

I kiss him, and he smiles against my lips. Carefully, I move my hands to his waist, pulling him closer, and he laughs a little. Then, suddenly he's tilting his head just to the side, and his jaw moves slowly in a way I can't describe but makes me feel light-headed. I sigh.

I'm reluctant to pull back, but I think I might actually pass out if he keeps kissing me like that.

He tugs my arm, sitting on his bed and pulling me along with him. Our thighs are pressed together, and every square inch of contact feels like a miracle. He leans forward, and I think he's going to kiss me again, but he presses his forehead to mine. Bronze curls mix with black locks. He shivers. His hand rests on my shoulder, and I could sit here forever, drinking in his every detail.

"Baz," he mumbles. "I…"

I brush a stray curl behind his ear. "It's okay."

He smiles. I sit back a bit and kiss his forehead.

Simon hums softly, smiling at me. "Baz?" He asks, and his cheeks are flushed. "As sweet as this is, I'm going to be honest. I am so over this whole sexual tension thing, and I'm super horny right now."

I laugh. "If you were anyone else, I'd be embarrassed to be associated with you, but I've actually been wanking to you all week."

He snickers. "Merlin, we're such teenage boys."

I grin, squeezing his waist. "Is that a bad thing?"

He laughs, burying his face in my chest. "Not at all."

Hesitating, I bite my lip. "Does that mean…"

Lifting his face, he smirks as best he can. "Great Snakes, do I need to spell it out for you?"

I laugh. "Yeah, yeah. No need for the attitude." I kiss him again (again!) and pull him to his feet.

He looks surprised. "Wait, why are we getting up?"

"What, do you want to do this in the middle of a dorm filled with other students?"

He goes bright red from his hairline to his collarbone. "Ah-- I--"

I cover my mouth with a hand, laughing. "Come on, follow me."

He grabs his wand (he left it here last week) and I lead him down the stairs. A few boys stare at us, especially at our hands (I'm holding Simon Snow's hand. That's a real thing that's happening.), but I glare at them until they run back to their rooms.

When we step out of Mummers House, it feels like a prophecy being fulfilled. Simon tilts his head up to feel the sun on his face and whoops, throwing his other hand into the air. He bursts into giggles, glancing over at me.

We walk hand in hand for what feels like an eternity, past the castle, through sparkling courtyards, under sprawling blue skies. It's a fairytale illustration.

I lead him to an old building on the edge of the campus, starting to grey. It could use a paint job, but the structure is intact, and just as beautiful as it was when my mother was here.

“What is this place?” Simon asks, peering up at one of the windows.

“It used to be housing for staff,” I explain. “When the Mage became headmaster, he sort of… downsized.”

Simon frowns. “Oh.”

“So now no one uses the building.” I laugh. “Well, not officially. It's become a popular place for students to…” my ears are warm again.

“To hook up,” Simon offers.

I nod and squeeze his hand. “If you don't like it…”

“It's perfect,” he grins.

I take a shaky breath. “Okay. Then… okay.”

He chuckles. “Shall we?”

Nodding, I push open the front doors.

I know it’s just some old building that probably hasn’t been dusted in a decade, but as we walk through it, I swear it feels more regal than the real castle on campus. Fit for kings. I smile at Simon, and he laughs.

  
  


**SIMON**

 

This is surreal. In a good way, of course. But I’ve never seen Baz smile so much, and never at me. I want to see it more often.

He’s holding my hand, too. That’s nice. His skin is cold, but I don’t mind.

He leads me down long hallways and up a flight of stairs, looking completely in his element. I guess he came here a lot as a kid.

He peers into a few rooms but deems them not good enough and moves on, trailing through what seems like a labyrinth with a clear sense of direction.

He pokes his head through another door, and I can’t tell what makes this room different, but he turns to smile at me again. “Is this good?”

I grin. “Of course.” Truth be told, I think it’d be perfect anywhere as long as it’s with Baz.

We step inside, and he locks the door behind us, just in case. The room is pretty cute and cozy, with a rather large bed. There isn’t much decoration, probably because whoever lived here moved out years ago. It's kind of plain. Regardless, my heart is pounding, and my hand feels sweaty in Baz’s.

I hesitate, glancing between him and the bed. “Should we-- uh--”

He gives me a quick kiss and pulls his wand from his sleeve. “Wait.”

Nodding silently, I let him slip his hand out of my grasp, and he steps back, smiling.

“ **Silence is golden.** ”

As I watch, the tip of his wand glows, and a warm light fills the room. I gape. He keeps an eye on my expression, smirking, but I’m still staring at the sparkling photons in the air. I feel like a fucking Disney princess or something, like Cinderella getting her dress spelled on. It’s exactly what the word  _ magic _ has always meant to me.

He sets his wand on the small table beside the bed, and I put mine beside it. My hands are shaking.

He turns to me and pulls me into a kiss. (I guess this makes him my Prince Charming.) I reach up, gripping his jumper, and lean in, moving my jaw carefully. He groans a little.

His stance shifts, and I register that we're moving towards the bed. I do my best not to stumble as he nudges me backwards. The back of my leg bumps the mattress, and I twist the hand in his jumper to stop myself from falling. He gives me a moment to recover, moving his mouth down to nip at my jaw. I steady my legs, then maneuver around him, turning us around and pushing him to sit. He pulls me down, and I straddle his legs. We're sort of tangled, and I'm not sure if this is good or not. He seems pretty into it, though, judging by how he's mouthing at my neck and jawline. I shift my position and he growls, smirking.

 

**BAZ**

 

Simon Snow is sitting in my lap. I think I could die in this moment.

He laughs and pulls me into another kiss. He's so fucking perfect in every way.

I move to kiss the mole on his cheek, the one I've always wanted to kiss. He looks surprised, but he doesn't complain.

“You're beautiful,” I murmur, and he giggles, blushing.

How is any of this real? Simon, here, snogging me like his life depends on it, letting me tell him stupidly sweet things and fulfill all my ridiculous fantasies. (For now, it's the romantic fantasies, but soon we'll delve into a whole separate category.)

I drag my teeth lightly over his skin, down his neck, and he giggles, shivering.

“Baz, that tickles!”

I lick a stripe over the spot instead, and he yelps, flushing.

I move a bit lower and gently suck on the scent gland on his neck. He makes a high-pitched noise, eyes snapping shut, and I know I've hit the jackpot. He shifts in my lap again, and I groan when I feel his wet trackie bottoms sliding across my trousers. I did that. I made him slick like that.

“Baz…”

I shudder. His voice is so quiet and strained, nearly an octave higher than normal. I want to hear him say my name like that again.

I lean up and meet his parted lips with mine, muffling his moan. Some part of me doesn’t even want to go any farther-- we could just snog here, with Simon squirming lewdly in my lap, and I’d be perfectly happy. The other part of me recognises that my hard-on is pressing against his ass, and if I don’t fuck him soon I might implode.

Simon must feel the same way, because he pulls back, panting, and gasps out, “Please, Baz. Crowley.”

I raise an eyebrow, pretending I’m not just as desperate as he is. “Eager, are we?”

He draws his shoulders up, and a high whine leaves him, drawn out and dirty. It’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

Snarling, I pull him close to my chest and turn us around to push him down onto the bed. He gasps, grabbing my jumper again, and tilts his head to the side. I moan a little, licking there again. He whimpers, and I can feel his hips bucking up against me. The friction makes me want to spontaneously combust, and I can’t help but roll my hips too.

Simon is trembling and whimpering beneath me, biting his lip, and I wonder if he knows what he’s doing to me. If he’s purposely trying to make the tug in my gut stronger. It really seems that way when he peeks up at me through thick lashes, looking like the human embodiment of lust.

I kiss him again, pushing him against the pillows, and he makes another amazingly wonderful sound. I drink it in. I want to hear his voice all day, every day. I want him to make those noises just for me.

I pull back, panting, and Simon reaches up, pushing his hair from his forehead. He chuckles a little, chest heaving as he catches his breath. I take the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, and he lifts his arms to help me. He’s quite fit, and I’m mesmerised for a second. He’s got even more moles here, littering his skin with the tiniest constellations. Simon grins and starts unbuttoning my blazer while I’m distracted. He takes it off me and tosses it to the ground, smirking. He’s so much more composed than he was only a few moments ago, and I’m not sure how he did it, but it’s surprisingly sexy.

He leans up, nosing at the crook of my neck, making me sigh. Then he’s tugging my jumper off, too, and I laugh, surprised. He runs a hand down my chest, eyes wide. I’m a little self-conscious, truth be told-- he seems like the type to be open about his body, but I’m not that kind of bloke. It makes me feel vulnerable all of a sudden. (But he smiles at me so genuinely that I kind of don’t hate my body.)

I realise belatedly we still have our shoes and socks on, and I sit up to take both mine and his off, tossing them beside our shirts. I suppose I was just that excited.

While I’m still sitting, Simon follows, reaching to meet my lips. He grips the back of my neck, and now I’ve got warm lips and a warm hand on me, burning me alive from every angle. More importantly, the tent in his trackie bottoms brushes against mine again, and we both moan. His hips twitch a little, seeking more contact.

I can’t take it anymore. I pull away and tug his joggers off, nearly feral. I’m both shocked and delighted to see he’s not wearing pants. He’s not all that small, but I’d say he’s probably a bit smaller than normal. He flushes, looking away as if this is something to be ashamed of. I glance up at him, grinning, and his expression softens. I press a small kiss to the head of his cock, and he squeaks.

“Baz!”

I giggle. (Pitches don’t giggle. I don’t care.) “You’re gorgeous, love.”

He preens, chest puffing out. He’s still blushing a bit. “Thank you.” His voice is so soft.

I look a bit lower, focusing my attention on what I’ve been dreaming about for weeks. His hole is pink and puffy, and he’s positively dripping. His slick smells just as sweet as usual, maybe more so now. I can feel my cock twitching in my pants as I watch a bit of slick leak out.

A thought hits me with no warning, and suddenly I can’t not go through with it. I lower my face to his hole and press my tongue flat against it. Simon gasps, reaching up to grab my hair. He says something that’s probably supposed to be my name but just sounds like a moan. I’m too busy drowning in the flavour of his slick to decipher it. It’s like I’ve just bitten into a peach, and now the juice is dripping down my chin, sweet and sticky. I lick across his hole, dragging slowly to gather as much of the slick as I can on my tastebuds. I faintly register Simon squirming above me, his thighs pressing against either side of my head.

It’s only when I dip my tongue into his hole that he truly wails, nails digging into my scalp. It’s extremely encouraging. I carefully flicker my tongue inside him.

“Alpha!”

The word sends a cold shudder down my spine. Merlin, he sounded so needy and excited. It takes me another second to realise that  _ I’m the alpha. _ I groan a little at the thought of it. The vibration against his hole must be good, because he whines.

I take a few more licks before sitting up again, grinning at Simon. He looks utterly wrecked, eyes half-lidded and mouth falling open. He’s still panting when he kisses me. I don’t notice that the bottom half of my face is covered in his slick until he starts licking it off. When he pulls back, he snickers.

“Merlin, I taste like peaches.”

I laugh. “Smell like them, too.”

He covers his mouth, giggling adorably. “Why did no one tell me that?”

I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Well you know now, don’t you?”

His eyes sparkle. “I’m more interested in finding out about you than me.”

Smirking, I push his hair out of his eyes. “What do you want to know?”

He grins. “I was hoping I could take off your trousers, for one thing.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t even have to ask.”

They’re off in an instant, and he nearly tears my pants. Then we’re both naked, and his mouth is open again as he gapes at my cock. I can’t help the rush of pride I feel at the new wave of slick that pours forth.

He glances up at me, eyes wide. “Baz, you’re huge.”

As if I didn’t feel good about my body already. “Thank you,” I breathe, and immediately recognise that I sound like an idiot.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he looks genuinely awed. I actually think he’s drooling. If that’s not an ego boost, I don’t know what is. He glances between me and my cock a few times, head bobbing like one of those little plastic birds that look like they’re drinking water. It’s more than a little amusing.

Simon swallows hard. “Uh… I…”

Grinning, I motion for him to continue. “Go on, Snow.”

He squirms a little. “Baz, I…” His cheeks go red. “I really want you right now. Can we…”

“Absolutely.” I hesitate. “Uh-- wait.” I grab for my wand again and cast a quick “ **Better safe than sorry** ” before putting it down again. It makes him laugh.

I push him down onto the mattress, and he shivers. Almost automatically, his legs fall open, feet planted firmly. (He really is eager.) (That in itself is sexy.)

I grip his waist, and it really hits me that this is happening. Simon is licking his lips, staring up at me with a glazed look in his eyes, and I’m about to fuck him. It’s every one of my wet dreams. Everything I’ve ever thought of while wanking. I’m so fucking ready.

I take a deep breath and line myself up. He smiles so brightly. I push in.

It’s incredible. He’s still dripping slick, and he’s even hotter on the inside than on the rest of his body. I’ve never felt this good before.

Simon’s eyes roll back in his head, and he whimpers, grabbing my shoulders. His hips move to meet mine, and it’s somehow even more fantastic.

  
  


**SIMON**

 

I had no idea it would be this good.

I mean, I knew I would like it, but Great Snakes. My stomach is warm and tight, and I can't stop curling my toes.

After a week of wishing for Baz instead of fingers and plastic, this is more than worth the wait. Even if he's colder than most people, his cock is warmer than the toys, and it's definitely longer. And he's his own person; a real alpha instead of what I think an alpha would do.

I can't understand how anything else was enough for me.

  
  


**BAZ**

 

I duck my head, pressing my nose into his neck. “Fuck, Simon…” I can’t think of anything else to say. Not when all I can focus on is the wet drag of my cock inside him.

His legs quiver on either side of me, and he squeals, “Merlin.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep my breathing steady. I know I’m speeding up, but I’m not exactly upset, and neither is Simon as long as I’m reading his hitching, whining gasps the right way. Every time I bottom out, there’s a wet slapping sound, which only makes me want to fuck him harder.

Simon tips his head back, lips trembling, and hooks a leg over me, using it to pull me closer. I don’t know if he did it on purpose or not, but I love how perfectly our bodies fit together. I can feel his cock pressed against my stomach now, and he whines even louder on each thrust because of the friction.

  
  


**SIMON**

 

How can I feel even better than before? I'd say that fucking someone this well should be illegal, but there's no way we're stopping.

My cock keeps rocking against his stomach, just as he fills me on the downstroke, and it's so much at once. I could go off like this, with so much stimulation making my head feel fuzzy. But it's so much nicer than going off.

Baz reaches between us, and his hand is suddenly on my cock, putting even more pressure on it. I keen, and my hips twitch up into his hand.

The air is still shining gold, like a testament to how much effort he's willing to put into this. The fact that he's trying his best to make this enjoyable for me is both sweet and hot.

  
  


**BAZ**

 

My hips stutter, and I groan into his collarbone. I hope this is as good for Simon as he’s making it sound, because I’d never be able to live it down if he told me he was faking it later. It feels so amazing for me that it’s hard to imagine that it wouldn’t be great for him too.

He uses his leg again, pulling me even closer, and the next time I push forward, he doesn’t just whine, he screams. He scratches frantically at my back, face scrunched up in pleasure. I pause for a moment and lift my face to look at him, unsure if this is actually a good thing.

“Baz!” He’s gasping. “Baz, there! Please! Again!”

I hesitate. “Is… are you…”

“Fuck,” he groans. “That’s-- that’s my--”

“Oh. Your prostate?” I ask, sounding very much like a virgin.

He nods wildly, biting his lip. “Please, please, Baz!”

I grip his waist tighter and try to move the same way.

“Alpha!”

I growl and do it again, moving my hips as sharply as I can.

“Alpha, alpha, yes! Merlin!” He’s twitching and gasping, eyelashes fluttering. “Please!”

I’m losing my mind hearing him beg for me like this. It’s stirring up all my instincts, besides how badly I already want him.

I start a breakneck pace, aiming carefully. He whines and screams and keens, wrapping both his legs around me now. He flexes his calves, and every thrust makes him squeeze around me, both with his hole and his legs. I don’t slow down, setting my jaw. I refuse to come yet, not before Simon. (No matter how good it feels when his hole clenches on my cock, making it even tighter.) (Even if the sounds he’s making are enough to make my hands shake with arousal.)

I thrust particularly fast, and Simon whines, but more importantly, the start of my knot bumps into his rim. I gasp, pausing for a moment, and have to tighten my grip on his waist to keep myself from coming. For a moment, I’d genuinely forgotten I even had a knot, but now I’m overly aware of it, and it seems like the lightest touch could set me off.

And then Simon whimpers, “Baz?”

I focus on making sure my voice doesn’t shake. “I just-- Merlin, I need a second, love.”

He smiles at me, still panting. “That was your knot, yeah?”

I nod weakly.

His expression shifts into something I’ve never seen on Simon’s face, sultry and dark. “Why’d you stop, then? I want you to knot me.”

I nearly come on the spot.

“You-- uh--”

He’s smirking. “I said I want your knot.” He shivers. “Like, a lot.”

How the hell am I supposed to respond to that? “Um.” Not like that.

He giggles. “What’s wrong, got stage fright?”

Oh, I’m going to destroy him.

With no warning, I slam home. He squeaks, and the dirty expression leaves immediately. He flushes brightly, and he’s back to the Simon I know. I smirk right back at him and aim for his prostate again. He keens, squeezing his eyes shut.

I start changing my pattern, and he makes a confused sound. Instead of quick, sharp motions, pulling out nearly all the way, I’m making smaller rolls of my hips. With every thrust, my knot grinds against his rim, growing from the friction. I’m not just fucking him, I’m getting ready to knot him, and it takes Simon a moment to understand, but when he does his eyes go wide.

“Oh, Crowley,” he gasps, squirming. “Oh, you-- you’re actually gonna--”

I grin down at him, putting an extra bit of force into the next motion.

He shudders, tugging on his bottom lip. “Alpha… fuck, I really do want you to knot me, you know.”

“Me, too,” I growl. “I really, really want this.”

He giggles, giving me bedroom eyes. He’s beautiful. I can’t believe someone this out of my league is looking at me like that, telling me how much he wants my knot. It’s really a dream come true.

Simon moves his hands from my shoulders, looping his arms around my neck. “Baz…”

I lean down and kiss him, and he moans into my mouth. I lace a hand in his hair, keeping my thrusts in that same tight circle, and his muscles tense. His legs are trembling around me. He’s about to come.

Still kissing him, I push, and with the most satisfying pop I’ve ever heard, my knot sinks into him.

I pull back from the kiss just in time to see his expression, his mouth dropping open and eyebrows pulling up in a delicious way. His cry of “Baz!” is bloody beautiful.

I give in. My whole body feels like it’s on fire.

I blink away the spots in my vision, panting. Simon has the most blissed-out expression on his face, and he's gone totally boneless on the bed. I kiss him again, and he makes a tiny whine.

Carefully, I roll onto my side, clutching him to my chest. He sighs happily, pressing his face into my neck.

“Alpha… that was…”

I grin. “Yeah?”

He nods weakly, still panting.

I rest my cheek on the top of his head, taking the time to catch my breath as well. I lift a hand to rub his back, and he makes a content noise, pressing back into my touch.

After a few minutes, Simon whispers, “Baz?”

I hum softly.

“I… I want you to bite me.”

I stiffen.

“Uh, the kind without the fangs.”

I laugh. “Right.” My eyes go wide. “Not that I have fangs.”

He snickers. “Of course not.” He lifts his head to meet my eyes. “I'm trying to say that I want you to be my mate.”

I feel like I'm flying. “You… you're sure?”

He nods. “This feels right. In a way I've never felt before. I want to do this all the time.” A flush spreads over his face. “Not just the sex, I mean. All of it. The kissing, and calling each other love, and… yeah.”

I swallow. “That's a big decision.”

“I know.” He seems to realise something. “Oh. I should have said that part first.” He sets his jaw and stares me down, determined. “Baz, I love you.”

The air has been knocked out of me. “You…”

His expression is hopeful, and fond, and sweet.

I take a deep breath. “I love you.” It's the truth.

He grins. “I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine.”

I slip my hand into his, and everything feels like it was supposed to happen this way.

He tips his head to the side, showing off his scent gland. He's asking me to mark him. To be his mate. His alpha.

I wouldn't want it any other way.


End file.
